


The Man with the Metal Arm

by metal_arm_blues



Series: The Man with the Metal Arm [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 06:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20671094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metal_arm_blues/pseuds/metal_arm_blues
Summary: Fourth Installment





	The Man with the Metal Arm

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky's POV

This was by far the most nervous I have ever been, sitting here in this apartment with a woman that was in her undergarments, and yet she was offering me to stay for some food. Here I had been fearful that she would have called the police, or at the very least thrown a few carving knives at me. I knew that from my appearance, I probably looked as if I lived on the streets. So, it was understandable that she might have also been offering out of sympathy. I found it rather difficult to look her in the eye, considering the fact that she was unclothed, and that I was still in fact a gentleman. At least the Bucky part of me was. Thankfully she took notice of my discomfort and went and put on a robe and came back. Now finally able to look at her without guilt, I smirked.

“I’m not the homeless man you think I am. I have a place, it’s not the best, nothing like this..”

I said as I gestured to her apartment, which I must admit was rather nice. It was spacious with plenty of natural lighting, as well as rather nice looking light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. It even had crown molding and dark hard wood floors. No, this was nothing like my cracker jack box of an apartment, that was for sure.

“But it’s do able. And as for hot meals, the closest I have come to eating one lately is a tv dinner.”

It took me forever to figure out the microwave, and yet my meal still was slightly cold. I watched as she grabbed a broom and dustpan and began to sweep up the shards of glass from the cup she had dropped earlier, which I had all but forgotten. Once she was finished with that, she told me to stay put while she showered, and then she would get to making the meal. I opened my mouth to protest this, thinking that I had vastly overstayed my welcome, but she shushed me and didn’t really give me much of an option over the matter. She went down the hall and disappeared and my eyes moved to the door. Something told me that I shouldn’t linger here, but there was also something compelling me to stay. Maybe it was the kindness of a stranger, or the temptation of a good meal. I sat there awkwardly in silence until I glanced over at her bookshelf and happened to see that she had a collection of books on Captain America. She must have been a fan, considering where she worked as well. I hesitated at first, before finally getting up and taking one of the books off the shelf. I skimmed through it, finding quite a few pictures that included myself.

I looked up when I heard footsteps, my body tensing slightly from having been absorbed in this book. It had been as if I were back in the 1940’s again, memories were flashing passed my eyes as I looked through these pictures. Howard Stark’s almost flying car, the two lovely ladies I ended up taking dancing that night, the next morning when I said goodbye to my family before being shipped out. My body calmed once I remembered where I was and then my eyes drifted over to her as she went about the kitchen gathering pots and pans. She asked me my name and this lead me to believe that she did not recognize me, despite my face being in a lot of pictures in these books of hers.

“Uh, yeah. James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky, if you like.”

The skillet that had been in her hand clattered against the stove. Aha, so she _did_ know who I was. After her eyes met mine, there was a knock on the door and I suddenly felt that tense feeling overcome me again. I furrowed my brows at her slightly when she mentioned 'him’ being dropped off early and stared at the door as she hurried to it and unlocked it. My grip on the side of the table began to tighten, thankfully it was with my right hand, so there was no damage done to the table like what would have been done with the left. The sound of a high pitched voice caused my body to lax, and I listened as the voice began to babble and then stared as the small child, who couldn’t have been more than two years old, began running down the hall. I hadn’t been around children in…well…decades, and honestly I could not remember how to act around one, so naturally, I just sat there staring off into the distance not to attract his attention. This did not work. The sudden 'Ooo!’ caused my eyes to snap in his direction as he stood just before me and stared at me in awe. I thought for sure he would be terrified of me, with me being a stranger and looking rather intimidating with my long unkempt hair and metal arm.

I looked down at him as he then moved forward and slapped my knee, knitting his brows together in a rather judgemental look. Okay? Another slap. What do I do? After his third slap, he then lifted his arms into the air above him and bounced on the balls of his feet. I had no idea what he wanted, so I glanced elsewhere. He then had apparently had it with my ignoring him, so he began to climb up my leg, rather well I might add. He began to slip and out of instinct, I caught hold of him and pulled him the rest of the way up onto my leg. He sat there for a few seconds, before making a noise that almost had a questioning tone to it. As if here were saying “Who the hell are you?”. He then began to stand up on my lap, which caused me to close my legs together so he would not step between them and fall. He studied my face silently and then his eyes caught sight of my metal arm. He made a noise and then sat down on my lap, running his hands along the metal forearm and slapping it a couple times. Then he took my metal hand in both of his and held them up in front of his face, examining it carefully. Bending my fingers and then looking at my other hand and comparing them. When his mother came back into the room, I felt suddenly awkward holding her child without permission.

I told her how he was rather persistent with me holding him, and she went on to say that this was normal for him. Apparently he was an extremely social child. I looked over at her when she said that she ought to tell me her name, though she assumed I already knew it. This was true, but still, introductions were always a good thing. She told me her name was Y/N and then I looked at the child as he suddenly stood up on my thighs, looking me straight in the face, for his height made it so we were eye to eye. His name was Oliver, and his face was inches from mine, so I had to sort of move it backwards to keep from my eyes crossing.

“Nice to meet you, Oliver.”

Then something strange happened. He put his small hands on the sides of my face and then slowly, almost hilariously slowly, began to bring his open mouth toward my face and then pressed it against my cheek rather awkwardly. Huh. What was happening? Y/N said that this was his way of giving people kisses and I felt a small smile form on my lips. How ironic that the first kiss I have had in decades, came from a toddler. I then took him gently under the arms and set him back down upon the floor. Oliver then suddenly gave a shrill scream and began stomping his feet angrily. Oh shit, what did I do? I quickly reached up and took the hat off my head and then placed it upon his, which swallowed it almost completely, to where all you could see were his lips and chin. He stopped his tantrum and then stood there a moment before taking it off and then looking at my head. He attempted to climb my leg once again, no doubt to put the hat on my head now, when the television turned on and a cartoon began to chime. I knew this character, though he had come a long way in animation since my day. Oliver ran over to watch Mickey Mouse Clubhouse show, and he then began to squat and stand up repeatedly. I glanced at Y/N but she said this was how he danced and I nodded. Interesting.

Y/N began working on the food, all the while I sat there in silence, occasionally glancing from dancing Oliver, to the door, expecting at any moment for someone to unlock the door and come in to find me there. Someone like a husband. She gave a whistle and Oliver stopped dancing and ran over to where she was, holding his arms up. He was placed in his chair and then he quickly set to work on eating the hot dog before him. When she went back to cooking, I simply had to ask.

“Will your husband be alright with a stranger staying for lunch?”

She began to refer to him in the passed tense, which made me fidget in my seat. From they way she was talking about how he would have been thankful I had saved her from such harm, I made the assumption that she was a widow. Now I felt guilty of prying too far. He had been killed in action overseas, that he will be seen as a hero in their son’s eyes and I nodded. I asked what branch of military he was with and when she said Army, I couldn’t help but give a small smile. I had always been an army man, myself. Well…up until my brain was cleansed of all those memories. I looked at her when she asked how I was still alive and I smirked, explaining that it would be a long story. This wasn’t good enough for Y/N, she wanted me to spill it. Well…alright.

As I made my way down an alley, on the road to my apartment, I couldn’t help but beat myself up over the fact I had just told everything to a woman I had only met the other day. Literally everything. From falling from the train to my supposed death, to waking up on a table being experimented on by Hydra. I even brought up the fact that I was shipped off to Siberia and there was trained to be a brainwashed assassin. She took it surprisingly well, especially the assassin part. I answered a few more of her questions and then that was when I decided that it was time for me to leave. Which proved to be difficult, when Oliver persuaded me to pick him up once more, and gave me what I assumed to be smacks of affection upon my face. As I had looked at them over my shoulder while heading down the hall, I could only help but feel that I would not be seeing them again.

As I finally got to my apartment, I looked around it for a moment, feeling a sudden pang of loneliness. It had been nice to have a meal with an attractive woman and a child, it were almost as if I had a family of my own. I shook that thought from my mind, since I knew too well that having such connections was not safe when it came to the lifestyle I lead. While I was doing my best to live a normal life, I knew that my past could always come back to haunt me…


End file.
